


Torture

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 10:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16852765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: Sam read something and tries it on Dean, without his permission, leading to a night of frustration and fun.





	Torture

Dean growled, arms bulging as he tried to pull against the restraints that tied his wrists to the bedframe, wanting – no,  _needing_  – to touch Sam.  Or himself. Or something, anything to stop the torture.

Sam had been teasing him for what seemed like years.  First there had been the groping at the bar, hands hidden by the table they’d been sitting at.  Dean had gotten rock hard before they’d even left the damn place, walking funny on the way out so that it wouldn’t be so obvious.

Then, as they were driving back to the motel, Sam had unzipped Dean’s pants, stroking his brother the entire drive home.  He’d ended it so nonchalantly when Dean put Baby into park at the motel that Dean had to take a minute to himself.  Sam headed into the motel room like nothing had ever happened in the car, but Dean had to take a breather or else he would have blown his load just sitting there in the car.

By the time he’d gotten into their room, erection slightly wilted at the mental mantra of  _dead body, sick puppies, crying children…_  Sam was stepping into the shower, bathroom door wide open so Dean could get an eyeful of his brother’s bubblebutt.  Sam had only sent one glance over his shoulder, enough to tell Dean he was welcome if he wanted to join.

Dean stripped on his way to the bathroom, hoping that Sam would finally finish what he had started once they were in the shower together.

He didn’t.

Sure, Sam let Dean wash his body, feeling his younger brother’s bulging muscles and sliding his fingers shallowly into Sam’s tight hole.  Sam even reciprocated – soaping up Dean’s body like it was the dirtiest thing on earth and rubbing him clean with a washrag.  Sam washed Dean’s erection meticulously, tugging and squeezing until Dean could barely breathe…before he let go, turned the water off, and got them both towels.

Dean stood in the shower, towel in hand, for a solid minute before his body and mind could catch up to the fact that he had not come in the shower.  He dried himself off quickly so that he could join Sam in bed, where he  _surely_  would finally finish what he started, right?

Sam was sitting in bed, yes, but he had his computer next to him, his naked body laid out for Dean to drool over.  Dean toweled his hair dry before heading over, ready to give Sam what he really wanted.

When Dean reached the bed, Sam snapped his computer shut, smiling up at his brother.  “Care to join me?” he asked with a smirk, and Dean sighed.

“Thought you’d never ask…”

The computer was tossed on the floor and Sam’s mouth was on Dean’s neck, pulling the older to lay on the bed as he sucked at the places he knew would get Dean going.  Not that Dean had been soft at all since the bar, but with Sam touching him like that, he could quickly cut glass.

Dean’s hips were searching for Sam’s, his back arching toward his brother for friction.  Sam would barely let their skin touch before pulling back, making Dean whine in his throat.  Sam bit his brother’s ear seductively, whispering a, “Hold on a sec,” before pulling away and reaching for something beside the bed.

Dean didn’t have time to think before Sam had tied his wrists to the headboard, unable to get himself out of the knots.  “Wha-?” was all that escaped his mouth before Sam had covered it with his own, dominating the kiss.  Not only that, but Sam finally lowered himself on top of Dean, letting Dean’s hard and leaking cock settle between his cheeks.  Dean sighed, trusting that his brother was finally going to take care of him now, just tied up.

Dean could trust Sammy to tie him up, sure.  It was new, but he could dig it.

Ten minutes later he realized how wrong he’d been.

Sam let Dean rut against his ass, his cock sliding through the pre-come that settled there.  Right when Dean thought he was one or two thrusts away from coming, Sam would pull away, taking the delicious friction with him.

While Dean was whining, pleading, thrusting up into nothing, Sam would take a minute to finger himself open, letting Dean see every pleasurable touch on his face.  When Dean had calmed down again, Sam would press against him, lube joining the pre-come slickness and making Dean get close all over again.

This cycle continued until finally Sam slid down onto Dean’s cock, squeezing his walls around his brother’s aching member.  Dean nearly came right there from bottoming out, but Sam was up and off before he could manage.

Sam began to ride his brother, watching Dean’s face carefully and taking note of every twitch of his muscles, pulling off and away as soon as Dean was on the verge.  Over and over this happened, tears leaking from the edges of Dean’s eyes with each passing denied orgasm.  

He pulled against his restraints, trying desperately to get his hands free so that he could take control, either of Sam or of himself.

When Dean finally thought he’d pass out from the torture, Sam sank down on his leaking member, squeezing. Sam’s fingers nimbly undid the restraints, pulling Dean’s sore arms to put his hands on Sam’s waist.

“Come on, Dean, time to come,” Sam whispered against Dean’s neck, ending Dean’s torture and holding his body still.  Bleary minded, but a man with a mission, Dean planted his feet on the mattress, hips pistoning up into his brother as fast and deep as possible.  It was only a minute before Dean was finally coming, deep and long into Sam’s tight ass.  

Dean had never had so much come leave his body before, the endless torture and pent up frustration having built up inside.  His eyes scrunched in pleasure-pain, unable to control the grimace that settled on his face.  Sam came onto their stomachs in response of being pumped so full, wetness seeping from his hole as Dean kept thrusting.

Finally Dean’s hips slowed, hands letting go of their death grip on Sam’s sides.  Sam’s fingers threaded through Dean’s hair, down his face and neck, eyes checking over his brother.

“You okay, De?” he asked softly, worry in his voice.

Dean’s face melted from it’s pained expression, relaxing before he opened his eyes and looked up at his brother.  “What was that, Sammy?” was his response, not giving a real answer.

Sam sighed, unsure of how Dean was feeling.  He removed himself from Dean’s embrace, going quickly to the bathroom to get a damp cloth and returning to clean off Dean’s overly sensitive member and stomach.  As he worked to clean come from the curly, dark blonde hairs, Sam explained.

“I read that sometimes things are…more intense…if you deny yourself for a long time.  I wanted to try, I guess,” Sam explained before getting a second cloth to clean between his own cheeks.  “I should have talked to you first, I’m so sorry.”

Dean was still laying on the bed, boneless and spent as Sam cleaned them up.  When there was no more come to take care of, Dean reached for Sam and pulled his brother into the crook of his arm, cuddling them tight.

“’s okay, Sammy.  Not mad, just…”  Dean searched for the right word.  “Fuck.”

Sam huffed a laugh, hearing the forgiveness in Dean’s voice.  He nodded, knowing where Dean was coming from.  They were silent for a minute, their breaths and heartbeats synchronizing.

“Just, next time? Warn a guy, okay?” Dean whispered into Sam’s hair, kissing his temple.  Sam nodded, grateful that Dean wasn’t mad.  That there would be a next time.

Hopefully next time, Dean would get Sam to that edge, torturing him right back.


End file.
